


Making Sure That Every Word is Said with a Smile

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: Ib's artistic abilities come in handy.





	Making Sure That Every Word is Said with a Smile

It was a relief when Ib woke up. She’d fallen over so suddenly and when Garry picked her up she felt so cold and he wasn’t knowledgeable in fainting. Her rose was vibrant and whole, and he could feel her heartbeat when he pressed two fingers to her pale wrist, but still he rushed to a safe place.

Garry had to keep himself occupied with the tomes on the shelf to stop frantically running his hands through his hair. Even still his hands shook and he hadn’t craved a cigarette like this in his three years of quitting.

The wish numbed itself somewhat when Ib sprung forward, a gasp, and his coat unceremoniously fell from her shoulders. Garry shoved the book back into its place and faced her.

“Ib, you are awake? Thank goodness,” he said.

She merely blinked at him.

“Ah, you fainted,” Garry said, to fill the empty air. “It gave my heart quite a fright. But you are okay, now?”

Ib nodded, and her hands clutched the collar of his coat. He hoped it didn’t smell too strongly of smoke.

“I didn’t want you to get cold,” Garry explained, “And you were scared. Don’t worry. I’ll smile enough for the two of us.”

Now there was a dubious expression on her face. The shriek he made at the spitting painting echoed in his head.

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” Garry added sheepishly. “Check that left pocket, Ib.”

Her hand slipped into the pocket and withdrew a candy wrapped in a yellow wrapper.

“Go ahead and keep that,” Garry said.

A single nod again, but then Ib reached up to the shelf next to her and pulled out a box. It was dusty; the once colorful sticker on top exclaiming that it was a marker box, with little mascots dancing in a revel.

“Oh my,” Garry said. He leaned over to get a better look. “You found a treasure, sweetheart.”

Ib popped open the box, revealing a paltry three markers within. The green marker was relatively clean, the orange marker’s label had been peeled off, and the purple marker’s cap was missing and it was dried out.

Even so she reached out her hand and gestured, her fingers moving up and down. Garry let her take his arm, and the green cool dye became a trail of grass at the base of his wrist.

She did not draw flowers, as he expected, but the stars and an orange sun and a green moon and dandelion puffs decorated his skin.

It went all the way up to his elbow, and Garry idly wondered if these markers were influenced by the gallery and would never run out. Or if the poor purple marker would have worked if it hadn’t lost its cap.

Ib was evidently done; as she pushed the caps back onto the markers and let them jostle around in the box as she returned it to its spot.

“Ready to go?” Garry asked, and even he was surprised at how calm his voice was. Like he was asking her if she was ready to go to the ice cream parlor.

Ib nodded and Garry took his coat, careful to not let the fabric smear Ib’s drawings.

-

“A stroll down at the beach?” Garry asked. The cheerful answer made him break into peals of laughter. “Goodness, you will spill any such secret, won’t you?”

A chatter went up around him, and he looked about at the voices surrounding him. “Yes, indeed, the beach has the ocean and sand and stars in the night-“

A hand flew through the air and struck his cheek, hard. Garry thought his molars would fall out, and he couldn’t do anything but blink and see clearly again.

“Oh,” he managed.

Ib cried aloud ( _“That’s_ _right,” he thought, “It’s Ib, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I forgot-“_ ) and any words that he would’ve said disappeared when she threw herself into his arms.

She squeezed tight and cried loudly and Garry quickly picked up his shattered thoughts and returned her hug, the sides of his coat falling beside her like protective wings.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” he murmured over and over, and it was only when Ib drew away and looked to the doorway that he noticed Mary’s glare.

-

The fake sunlight was warm enough to make Garry wonder if there was a hole in this haunted gallery where the two of them could climb out and escape to the true world. But neither were tall enough besides, and he wasn’t going to make Ib climb on his shoulders and climb.

He wanted to ask her if she wanted to sleep – his coat would’ve served as a pillow – but she was on high alert, like this place would erupt into flames at any moment.

Garry felt a horrible shiver go down his spine at the thought of Mary finding them, her palette knife ready, waiting, to stab through life-giving roses, but he had to hope that she would not lurk around here.

And in any case, he hoped his rose would be sufficient for her macabre wish.

-

There were agonized screams and the smell of burnt paper and paint, and Garry stepped back as he watched the inferno cease just as quickly as it started.

Mary was alive and now she was a pile of ashes around the palette knife. That was just how it was when someone died, even if they were made of paint – they were alive in one moment and dead the next.

Poor girl.

Garry’s hand brushed against a shard of glass, and when he stood up it wasn’t even until Ib pointed it out that he noticed the blood seeping out from the wound.

“Oh,” he said, “Well, it is a minor wound…”

Ib reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, white fabric with her name embroidered in the corner.

“This? Ib, it looks so nice. Is it really okay?”

Ib responded by pushing the cloth against his hand, soaking up what little blood there was, and he made a small noise of protest when she put the handkerchief back into her pocket.

“Well,” Garry said at her nonchalant expression, “What’s done is done, I suppose.”

-

There was a beautiful rose statue there, dripping with petals, and a young girl admiring the art piece. He said good-bye, a name joined the farewell, and something coursed through his memory.

There was green at the base of his wrist, and he pulled the sleeve up, revealing the stars and moon and sun and dandelion seeds in marker across his skin, and he nearly stumbled.

He spoke her name again, almost like a question, and it sparked her to run. She nearly slammed into him, her voice loud and clear despite her growing sobs.

“Garry, Garry, you made it, we’re okay, everything is okay,” something frantic in her words and he made a soothing sound with his breath, the air whistling through his teeth.

He stepped down to his knees so that it would be easier for her to hug him, and he could only thank everything good in this world that the girl under his protection had made it into safety.

**Author's Note:**

> My two little nieces used my arms as a canvas, and inspiration struck.


End file.
